Reciprosity
by Suki
Summary: She'll share his dreams if he shares his bed. [GeneMel]


_Disclaimer: Outlaw Star and all the characters and names therein belong to other people._

_**Reciprocity**_

**By Suki**

Gene burst from the slashing images into a sitting position, laid bare in the cold air of a night-quiet apartment, perspiration sparkling on his skin like a myriad of tiny, twinkling stars.

Nightmares again.

He was no longer afraid of space, no, not even close. But he still dreamed from time to time, and his dreams were of his father. He leaned his moist forehead into his palm and squeezed his eyes closed, trying to dissipate the remnants of his nightmare. The moon sheen seeping through from above lit the room blue, and it calmed him. He sunk his head lower and pulled his hand through his tangled mat of red hair, surprised at first its lack of length, then adjusting to the sensation.

He sighed and looked around him, lost in thought and craving a snack. He stood and adjusted the sheets on his makeshift bed (which was by daytime the Starwind and Hawking Enterprises' living room couch) and stretched.

Subtly, a soft stifling noise dripped into his consciousness. His hands fell gradually to his sides and he stood still and straight, letting the fresh air cool the perspiration on his bare and scarred chest. Inclined his head slowly.

The noise was coming from the loft – his former bed – where he'd last left Melfina sleeping. A little flip of something in his chest cavity propelled him to step softly across the room, climb the stairs, and alight on the landing.

Sure enough, in the un-obscured pool of moonlight splashing onto the bed, sitting amidst a tangle of white-grey sheets and crumpled up like handkerchief or a tiny child, Melfina cried softly into her hands.

Gene approached her carefully, as if he might startle her, though he knew there was no way she didn't sense his nearness. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed, features softening for the only one who merited a show of tenderness from him more than once a week (and on some holidays). Presently, she lowered her hands into her lap and gave him a tiny smile.

Gene put his hand out and gingerly touched the white, soft skin of her fingers. To his silent and unacknowledged pleasure, her hand turned and cupped his own.

"What's the matter?" he asked. It was not a heavy inquiry but had a smile in it, as though he knew no true sorrow could touch her. There was nothing he couldn't make go away.

She took in a small, shivering breath and smiled again. "It's . . . nothing."

He gave her a scrutinizing look, one eyebrow folding incredulously; upon making his analysis, he reached out and tugged a stray lock of black hair that fell delicately over her shoulder. "Liar."

She swatted his hand away, flustered and blushing. Then the fingers of her free hand found her mouth in the worried gesture she had, curling against her lips softly. "I just . . . well . . .." She looked at him, lowering her hand to give him an un-obscured gaze. "I've been dreaming, that's all."

"Dreaming." Gene repeated the word tranquilly but there was a question in it nonetheless.

"Melfina . . . you don't dream."

She blinked at him innocently. Then her large brown eyes shifted and focused. "I . . . you're right. Wait. No, it's different now. I do dream, Gene. I've been dreaming often."

The tall man thought for an instant, pondering the woman before him. She was small and fair, a slash of white lit up in the darkness, and he could see the large dew-drops that betrayed her eyes, reflecting starlight.

How fitting that she should dream now, and distressing dreams, when nightmares troubled his own thoughts. When the Maiden left her, she left her completely his, and he and Melfina had no small connection even before then.

But it wasn't even really worth considering. "What did you dream of?" he asked quietly.

"I think . . . it was of you, Gene." She held a look of hesitance, and he wished she wouldn't look like that.

"I think I cry when you cry."

Gene turned his face to the side sharply, brows furrowed, and took a minute to regain his composure. When he looked back at her, he was strong and assured, for men (especially well-established bounty hunters and outlaws such as Gene Starwind) do not tear and tremble at the tender concern of a woman.

He smiled reassuringly and renewed his pressure on her hand. "Don't cry, Mel. You know that's completely useless to me."

A little sob skipped in her throat, but she nodded bravely.

"Aw, damn," Gene sighed. "That's no good to me either." His voice lit softly with a gentle and almost playful exasperation.

He climbed onto the bed (it was his at one time and he was well-accustomed to it) and adjusted Melfina so that he was lying aside her, very near yet un-touching. They faced each other in the blue moonlight as he tucked the wet-cool sheets around them.

"I guess I'll just have to sleep astoundingly well tonight." He smiled softly to himself. He adjusted on his side and settled into the pillow. "Well? Aren't you going to sing me to sleep?"

She watched him with awe-filled and reverent eyes, mouth small and straight. Now he smiled for her – it was the roguish grin, the one that could point at any girl and floor her in seconds flat. No, that was wrong. He'd never smiled at any other woman quite like this before.

She began to hum a small tune, mysterious and faraway, and slowly the tune shaped into words, and she was singing a sad little song, lulling and sleepy. For a while, Gene just closed his eyes and listened.

When she was finished, all was silent for a very long time. The moon shied away, and the room darkened. He opened his eyes and peered into the dark but he could no longer make out the shape of her features. He thought she might be sleeping.

Then, her voice drifted to him quietly in the dark. "Gene . . .."

"Mm?"

"Why don't you ever sleep with me?"

He tried to ease the sudden tensing of his neck and shoulders.

"What do you mean, Melfina," he said quietly. "I always lie with you until you fall asleep every night."

She paused and he thought she might be assuaged. Then, "But then you leave, and go downstairs." In a nearly inaudible voice, she added, "It would be one thing if you just left me to myself. But when I wake at night and find you gone, I . . .."

_Feel an immediate and uncanny loss._ She needn't speak what he already sensed.

He shifted uncomfortably. "I have . . . bad habits, Melfina. I need to wait a little while longer before I can stay with you all night."

It seemed that she was absorbing this, and she made a small sound of understanding.

Or not so much.

Because at that moment she closed the gap between them and entwined her arms and legs around his long, lithe body, clinging like a newly born marsupial to its mother.

Gene tensed and felt extremely blessed that no one was up and around to witness the endearing albeit compromising position. In mere force of habit, Gene lifted his hands as far away from Melfina's body as space and the laws of physics allow.

But slowly, he relaxed; lowered his hands to a safe and blameless distance. Melfina sunk against him, tucking her head into his chest as though it were her pillow. She breathed evenly and contentedly against his mangled brown skin (it never seemed to bother her they way it did some women), and sailed smoothly back into slumber.

Without really moving, which took a great deal of skill in and of itself, he settled around her (it was funny how she fit perfectly into the curve of his body). Blinked once or twice. Breathed deeply in and out. And let himself drift into sleep.

He would allow himself this one guilty pleasure, for her sake. The last thought that entertained him was bright and promising as a new beginning. This morning, when she awoke, he would be there still with her.


End file.
